


The Age of Heroes

by AXEe



Series: Ultrawoman [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aliens, Alternate history--Superheroes/superpowers, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2018-12-25 22:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12045381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AXEe/pseuds/AXEe
Summary: Two months ago, our greatest protector, the Last Daughter of Mars, Ultrawoman returned after a fifty-four year absence.  But the world she has returned to is not the one she left, things are different now, superheroes--known as 'aces'--are no longer hailed as savors, but are now looked on with suspicion and distrust.   Can Ultrawoman restore the age of the hero? Or will a new threat be her final battle?





	1. Twelve Million Dollar Hardware

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Welcome to the first chapter to the sequel to "The Return of Ultrawoman" and the second part of the "Ultrawoman" series. Please enjoy, and here's a bit of worldbuilding
> 
> Because Ultrawoman landed in the US, the USSR still exists to this day, due to fears of the U.S. launching an assault on the Soviet Union backed by Ultrawoman.
> 
> Superheroes are known as 'aces' in this world and almost never have secret identities, they're the rock stars of this world, not all of them have powers, some are just very dedicated people in costumes. Aces are divided into two types, "Capes" and "Masks", a Cape is an ace who acts like Jordan (although she's the only ace who actually _wears_ a cape, they're too impractical in RL), Capes very rarely have secret identities, don't wear masks for the most part, and often try to help people. "Masks" are the darker, grittier, Batman-type vigilantes, they _do_ wear masks, and are often looked on as nutcases
> 
> Some nations have state-sponsored aces, who usually have powers, basically if your nation has a nuclear arsenal, you probably have an ace
> 
> Some companies and corporations have 'spokes-heroes' as were, a flashy, corporate mascot who is an ace
> 
> All aces in the U.S. have partial police powers, meaning that they can legally arrest someone, but they're NOT cops. The law allows aces to operate as long as they do it in their costume, which is seen as being legally distinct from their real identity, but this has created a loophole, where criminals can dress up in a fancy costume and call themselves "Dr. Death" or something like that and be partly immune to arrest. These people are called 'duces', the opposite of aces.
> 
> Ultrawoman's nicknames are "Mother Mars", which people use like "Man of Steel" is used for Superman, she's also called the 'Last Daughter of Mars' and the 'Tomorrow Woman'. Unlike Superman, she sees herself as a warrior, not a hero, so she WILL kill if she thinks its necessary or that there's no other option, she doesn't like to, but she will.
> 
> I think that's it for now, enjoy! :=)

******

**Blue Harbor, Washington**  
**Department of Extra-normal Research and Defense**  
**Two months later…**

“ _….in the two months since Ultrawoman’s return, officials in Washington have been caught in heated debate over what is now being called the ‘Martian Problem’. Some members of Congress feel that Ultrawoman should stand trial for her actions in Cuba in 1963 during the Cuban Missile Crisis, which directly preceded her fifty-four year disappearance, whereas others feel that her actions in Cuba had no direct affect on the outcome of the Crisis. Ultrawoman’s actions in Cuba, of course, were the forcible removal of a Soviet missile instillation from the island, prompting the USSR to issue a threat that if Mother Mars was ever seen over Soviet airspace she would be immediately shot down. In related news, the Soviet state-sponsored ace, ‘Winter Guard’ has announced his decision to retire…_ ”

Maddox, the director of the Department of Extra-normal Research and Defense, shut of the car as she pulled into her parking space. Getting out of the car, she looked around the top of the parking garage, noticing that something felt off. Ignoring it she grabbed her coffee and headed for the elevator. Officially disguised as a law firm, the Department of Extra-normal Research and Defense or ‘DERD’, was an extra-legal, extra-governmental, black ops U.S. organization founded to investigate and defend against, among other things, the threat of alien invasion.

Investigating a crash site not far from the city back in 1939, the government had found evidence that the object that had crashed was an alien craft. Although neither the craft nor its occupant was ever discovered, the evidence pointed that the craft had come from Mars. Three years later in 1941, during the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, a woman with strange powers appeared. Virtually invulnerable and capable of flight, and possessing incredible strength and speed, she singlehandedly fought off the attacking Japanese fighters.

Taken into government custody, the U.S. Army soon issued an incredible statement, not only was the ‘flying woman’ real, she was an alien, the last survivor of the planet Mars. Nicknamed ‘Ultrawoman’ by the press, she fought on the side of the Allies during the Second World War, helping to capture Adolf Hitler and bring him before the World Court to stand trial for his crimes. With the war’s end, Ultrawoman would go on to become Earth’s greatest protector, defending the planet from at least one attempted alien invasion, and inspiring a whole generation to follow her example. Known as ‘aces’, these people dressed in costumes and fought crime, becoming real life ‘superheroes’.

But then things began to chance. Targeted by conservative members in the government, many aces were labeled as communists and forced into early retirement; many of the war-time aces retired rather than be dragged before Congress and be forced to publicly denounce their beliefs. By the 1960s, attitudes towards aces began to change, with John F. Kennedy in the White House, he promised less restrictions on aces, but also proposed a way of regulating their activities, helping to draft and sign the ‘Costumed Vigilante Regulation and Restriction Act’.

Known more commonly as the ‘Latham Act’, after the former ace who proposed it, the Act set down a series of guidelines for aces, they were required to cooperate with local authorities, their vigilante activities could only be done costume, and they had to obey at least the sprit, if not the letter, of the law.

With the Latham Act signed into law, it seemed that a new, post-war golden age had begun. But, then, in 1963, everything changed. Seeking to end the Cuban Missile Crisis, Ultrawoman violated the U.S. Naval quarantine of the island and physically removed one of the missile instillations on the island. Realizing that she had overstepped her bonds, Ultrawoman disappeared, only appearing once more in November of that year to save President Kennedy from an attempted assassination in Dallas.

With her gone, there was no one to inspire aces. Suddenly, newer, darker, more violent aces began to appear, most of who were no better than the criminals they fought. For fifty-four years, the world was without Ultrawoman. Then, just two months ago, she returned, teaming up with a new ace to stop a rogue ace that had gone on destructive spree around the city of Blue Harbor.

Sipping her coffee, Maddox pressed the elevator button again; frowning at a loud _whooshing_ sound suddenly broke the still air. Turning, she watched as a military drone suddenly came crashing down onto the concrete, exploding into a brief fireball.

To her credit, Maddox kept calm, barely twitching, as she turned around and silently watched the blue-clad figure drop down next to the wreckage of the drone. Standing at just less than six feet in height, with long dark, curly hair and fair skin, with bright blue eyes, the alien warrior Ultrawoman cut an imposing figure. Dressed in a formfitting suit of what looked like blue chainmail with a long crimson cape, she simply stood there, waiting as Maddox finished off her coffee

“That was a twelve million dollar piece of military hardware, Dr. Ellis” Maddox said simply, addressing the Martian by her human name of ‘Dr. Jordan Ellis’

“It was,” the other woman replied “now it’s just scrap metal”

“I see you still like to ignore the U.S. government” Maddox noted

“I don’t like being followed,” Jordan replied “besides, you already know who I am”

“You can’t blame me for trying” Maddox shrugged, Jordan smirked

“Tell me what your bosses want” she instructed

“They want to know if you’ll act against America’s interests again”

“I don’t ‘act’ for America,” Jordan scoffed “I fight for Earth as a whole, flags and borders are just pretty colors to me”

“I’ll be sure to let them know” Maddox nodded

“See that you do, Director”

With a whoosh and a streak of red light, Ultrawoman took off

Maddox frowned at the wreckage of the drone, sighing “They’ll probably take this out my paycheck” she grumbled…


	2. Phalanx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When heroes fall, what remains can be far worse than any nightmare...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short double update! Enjoy! :=)

******

**Harbor Square**

Jaime Olsen grunted as she was tossed back about twenty feet, wincing at the impact

“ _Exterior shell….two percent damage,_ ” the armored suit she was wearing announced “ _alert, particle discharge detected_ ”

Jaime grunted and rolled out of the way as a bright bolt of green light sizzled past her. The group of a dozen or so aliens standing at various places around the Square weren’t particularly big, but they were strong and fast. Looking like insects, Jaime couldn’t tell whether they were wearing some kind of armor like she was, or actually were some kind of robots, or even just _looked_ like robots.

Jaime grunted as one of the aliens gripped her arm and easily lifted her up and above its head. Having literally dropped out of the sky in a miniature meteor shower, no one had expected the attack, and apparently the pods they had used to enter the atmosphere were too small to be accurately picked up by radar and satellite tracking.

The alien holding Jaime aloft gave her a shake

“ _We will take this world for our own,_ ” it proclaimed in a metallic, buzzing voice “ _soon, you will rejoice and be one with the Hive_ ” it added. There was a streak of crimson light and suddenly Jaime was hitting the ground hard while the alien had been knocked into a parked car. Climbing to her feet, Jaime took a breath as she saw Ultrawoman standing between her and the fallen alien

“Thanks” Jaime panted out

“No problem” Ultrawoman nodded as the aliens swiftly surrounded them while the one that Jordan had just knocked into a car quickly flowed to its feet, stopping and simply staring at Jordan

“ _You dress as a Hasha’han,_ ” it buzzed “ _you are not Hasha’han. They are dead_ ”

“No, not all,” Jordan shook her head “I am the _last_ Hasha’han,” she proclaimed, she grinned predatorily at them “I am Armus’ last survivor. There’s a reason for that,” she pointed out “would you care to find out why?” she threatened

The aliens surrounding the two women reared back

“ _Withdraw, withdraw!_ ” they buzzed, clearly terrified as they swiftly disappeared in some kind of teleport, vanishing in a bright flash of green light

“Is it always this easy?” Jaime wondered as the last alien vanished. Jordan snorted

“Hardly” she chuckled…

******

**Blue Harbor General Hospital**

Dr. Jordan Ellis, also known as ‘Ultrawoman’, stepped off the elevator and glanced at the clock with a grimace. It wasn’t even nine o’clock

“Hey,” Suzy Corrigan hurried over. Standing at five-four tall, with dark skin and thick curly black hair, Suzy was the polar opposite of Jordan. Jordan was fair-skinned to the point of almost being pale, Suzy was black. But right now, Suzy didn’t care for examining their differences, instead her eyes naturally drawn to the two trays of four cups in Jordan’s hands “that had better be coffee” she said

“It is, you caffeine addict” Jordan smirked and handed to her, Suzy took the tray, eased one cup out and, setting the tray down on the nurse’s station—where it was promptly set upon by a horde of caffeine-binging nurses---Suzy took a deep, long, gulp of her coffee. She frowned as she looked up at Jordan, blushing slightly

“Sorry. Did you want one?” she offered sheepishly

Jordan shook her head “Doesn’t affect me,” she explained “my metabolism’s too…unique”

“Too _alien_ you mean,” Suzy chuckled, she nodded to one of the TVs hanging from the ceiling “saw you and Jaime on the news this morning,” she explained “never knew that you could scare off a bunch of aliens just by showing your teeth”

Jordan smirked back. Since learning that she was an alien, Suzy had also confessed that she was attracted to Jordan. They had been dating for the past two months, agreeing by silent discussion to keep their relationship quiet and, hopefully, away from the ears of the hospital administration “Toka’s are very easily frightened” Jordan explained, nodding to the news report “they’re mostly talk, if you can scare them by seeming bigger and more threatening then them, they’ll retreat”

“And I guess Martian’s are bigger and more threatening?” Suzy wondered

Jordan grinned almost-threateningly at her “Very” she purred

“Hey, Captain Dynamic’s dead!” someone exclaimed

“What?” Suzy asked as she and Jordan hurried over to another nurse who held up his tablet

“ _…once again, for those of you just tuning in, Geoffrey Gray, otherwise known as ‘Captain Dynamic’, was found dead in his prison cell today from an apparent suicide. Gray had been indicted on several charges of terrorism by the Department of Homeland Security after his reign of terror and destruction just two months ago, following Ultrawoman’s return. Following his arrest, Gray taken into custody of the FBI and the DHS. In other news…_ ”

******

Geoff Gray choked and gagged as awareness came rushing back. Clawing at his neck and throat he coughed and wretched as air flowed into his lungs

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Gray” a voice said to his left. Weakly turning his head, Gray felt his heat jump

“C-c-crensahw” he wheezed out as he recognized the elderly man standing before him

“Very good, Mr. Gray,” Crenshaw nodded “and, no, you’re not dead. Not yet at least. Trying to hang yourself with a pillowcase isn’t exactly the most dignified way of exiting this world. No, we still have use for you, Mr. Gray,” he held up a box of some sort “there are two buttons here, one blue, one yellow. I press the yellow button and the drug we’re using to sustain your miserable existence stops flowing, and you die. I press the blue button, and you can get your revenge on that alien. Your choice, Mr. Gray”

“B-b-blue” Gray wheezed out almost immediately

Crensahw nodded, seemingly pleased and expecting his answer “I thought you might chose that,” he pressed the blue button and Gray gagged at a sudden freezing sensation rushing through his veins “Geoffrey Gray dies today,” Crenshaw proclaimed “rise…Phalanx”


	3. Legacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! Enjoy! :=). And here's some more worldbuilding, although the USSR still exists in this world is it a far less repressive place than it had been in RL. Both the Fall of the Berlin Wall and the reunification of Germany happened at the same time as in our world. I think that's it for now, enjoy :=)

******

**The Bering Strait  
Three miles off the Alaskan coast**

Winter Guard—the Soviet Union’s state-sponsored ace—ducked under the cloud cover as he flew across the Soviet border, entering international waters, two MiG fighter jets trailing after him as he made a direct line for the Alaskan coastline. But, he was not planning on attacking, nor was he planning on defecting from the USSR. No, his mission, although disapproved by the Party, was one of mercy, a last chance attempt to honor the wish of a dying man.

Born ‘Sergei Varstok’, he was in fact the third person to take up the mantle of the USSR’s ace, Winter Guard, the third man in the entire Soviet Union to receive an injection of an incredible serum that, when successful, would grant the subject the ability to mimic to those of Jordan Ellis/Ultrawoman. Sergei's grandfather had been the first Winter Guard and the first of the Soviet aces, back during the Second World War, before the Party under Stalin and other hardliners effectively banned aces, claiming it to be a prime example of ‘Western decadence’. Eventually, however, as the map of Europe was divided up between NATO and the Warsaw Pact, the Soviet government soon saw the propaganda value of aces (as well as recognizing the potential threat that Ultrawoman posed).

Officially, despite the significant relaxation of Party control and the thawing of relations between the USSR and their NATO counterparts following the fall of the Berlin Wall and the reunification of Germany under a democratic government, the Winter Guard was still, according to Soviet propaganda, a tireless champion of the working man, who would eagerly crush the bourgeois and overthrow capitalism and replace it with the glory of communism.

In reality, although Sergei was a communist, he did not blindly follow Party doctrine, nor did he believe that Communism and Democracy to be sworn enemies, to him they were just merely two sides of the same coin, neither was ‘better’ than the other, and Sergei had made it his personal mission to help people whenever and wherever he could, regardless of ideology.

Gliding to a stop in the air, Sergei scowled at the blue clad figure floating in front of him: American Eagle, the United States’ own state-sponsored ace, created using a copy of the same serum that had given Sergei and his father and grandfather their powers (stolen by the CIA during the height of the Cold War). The identity of American Eagle had first been created in early-Fifties, partly due to backlash from the fact that Ultrawoman was a woman, but back then the original American Eagle had had no powers of any kind, and quickly became something a laughingstock. It wasn’t until the Ultrawoman Incident in Cuba, where Jordan disappeared from the public, that—in the ensuing confusion and political upheaval—a team of CIA operatives were able to make off with a copy of the Winter Guard serum formula from the KGB headquarters in East Berlin.

Like Sergei, the current American Eagle was the third man to wear the costume. Unlike Sergei, he truly believed in the phrase _’America, Love it, or Leave it’_. Born ‘Charlie Watson’ he had an almost-xenophobic fear of outsiders and foreigners and an almost-zealot-like belief in his country. To him, anyone who didn’t recite the pelage of allegiance every morning by heart and viewed all Muslims and Arabs with suspicion was deemed ‘unAmerican’ in his mind. To him, the United States government could do no wrong; it was the pinnacle of human greatness, all past historical endeavors were merely stepping stones leading to the formation of the United States, all part of a grand cosmic design.

Sergei knew all this, but he had to try at least

“Please,” he began in accented English “I not wish to fight”

“You’ve crossed over into U.S. territorial waters,” American Eagle called out. His eyes lit up, firing some kind of energy beams at Sergei “nod if you understand” he added as the blast knocked Sergei out of the sky. Plummeting, Sergei grunted as he tried to regain his balance, tried to get airborne again, only to lose his concentration as American Eagle swooped down and pummeled him, knocking him out of the air to land hard on an ice flow down below

“Please!” Sergei pleaded as he staggered to his feet “is a mercy mission! A man is dying!” he exclaimed only for American Eagle to charge and knock him into the ground, the ice splintering and cracking beneath them “please!” Sergei pleaded again even as he got his own punch in, knocking Eagle back several feet “I only wish to speak to Ultrawoman! Speak, you understand? Not fight!” he tried as American Eagle suddenly slammed into him, pinning him to the ground

“You can talk to the Martian when you’re _dead_ , commie!” Eagle spat

There was a distant boom, and a crackling beam of crimson light suddenly streaked down from the sky, knocking the two men apart. They both turned, ready to face this new threat, only to freeze in place

“Is there a problem here, gentlemen?” Ultrawoman asked as she floated above them “or is two aces beating the living daylights out of each other over international waters some new form of diplomacy I wasn’t aware of?” she continued as she landed. She glanced at American Eagle, a look of clear disgust on her face, before she smiled at Sergei “you’re Winter Guard?” she asked

“ _Da,_ ” Sergei nodded as they shook hands, his own bear-like build making him tower over the already tall Martian “I come on mercy mission,” he panted out “my grandfather, he fought with you, in Second World War, as ally, he is dying now. He wishes to you see one last time”

Ultrawoman sighed “I can’t,” she said “your own country threatened to shoot me down if I ever crossed into Soviet airspace”

“Ah, but if Soviet Union’s own ace escorts you…?” Sergei hinted

Ultrawoman chuckled “Well…when you put it that way…” she gently rose up off the ground

“Hey!” American Eagle waved his hands “you’re just going to leave me here to be eaten by polar bears?!” he demanded

“Relax,” Ultrawoman called out “you’ll be fine. Polar bears don’t eat shit…”

******

Jordan glanced at the big, burly Russian ace as she flew alongside him, the two Soviet fighter jets flanking them. He was a big man, bear-like, not merely tall, but stocky, burly, he looked like he could tie crowbars into knots even without super strength, and Jordan was fairly certain that, were she Human, he could knock her three ways to Sunday without even trying

“I make deal with Soviet government,” Winter Guard explained “you come see my grandfather and then go to May Day celebration in Red Square”

Jordan nodded “Meet the troops, shake a few hands, pose for pictures, and kiss a few babies. I get it”

“ _Da,_ ” he nodded “it is…not honest, I know, but it was only way”

Jordan smiled at “It’s fine,” she replied as they sailed over Siberia and into the Russian Socialist Federal Republic, passing over the Kremlin before nearing the outskirts of Leningrad, landing at a small, simple farmhouse

“Nice place,” Jordan commented, she nodded to the small clump of Soviet soldiers lounging around outside “nice company you’re keeping” she muttered as a woman approached them

“You are Ultrawoman?” she asked in accented, but fluent English

“I am” Jordan replied

“Lt. Col. Valentina Gagarin,” the woman replied “I am with the NKVD”

“The secret police” Jordan nodded. Lt. Col. Gagarin smirked

“Not anymore. Now, we represent and regulate the aces within out borders,” she gestured to the farmhouse “this way, please”

The interior of the farmhouse was small, simple, yet homely. In a small bedroom to the side, an old man lay on the bed, his breathing labored. Softly slipping inside, Jordan sat in a stool opposite the priest who was administering last rites, as Sergei softly approached

[Grandfather,] he called softly [she’s here,] he insisted [Ultrawoman! I’ve brought her to you, just as I promised]

The old man’s eyes slowly opened, turning to first focus on his grandson and then upon the priest, before finally turning to Jordan

[Hello, Sasha,] she smiled in Russian [it’s been a long time]

[Ah!] the old man’s face broke out into a joyful grin [you remember me!] he exclaimed

[Of course I do,] Jordan replied [I always remember everyone I’ve met,] she gently rested a hand on his arm [you’re very sick] she noted

[Lung cancer,] he replied [all those damn cigarettes]

[But,] Jordan shook her head [surely, there’s…,] she trailed off [no, huh?]

Sasha shook his head [No, no radiation, no drugs. I saw my wife go like that, not me]

[Sasha,] Jordan began [why did you bring me here?]

[Ah,] Sasha reached under his pillow and pulled out a worn snapshot. It had been taken during the War, after the Battle of Stalingrad if Jordan’s memory was right, a Soviet flag hung on a makeshift pole, while a group of Soviet soldiers proudly held up a captured Nazi flag. In the midst of this celebratory scene, standing slightly off to the side, was Jordan herself

[You save us all that night,] Sasha explained [and I never got the chance to say ‘thank you,’] he explained [because of you, I not only became the Soviet Union’s first ace, I now have children, grandchildren. And it is all thanks to you]

[You’re welcome, Sasha,] Jordan smiled bitter sweetly as she took his hand [just rest now…rest…]

******

“It’s over” Jordan announced softly as she emerged from the house to find Lt. Col. Gagarin waiting for her

“I’m sorry” Gagarin apologized

“So am I” Jordan sighed…


	4. Front Page News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! Yes, Ultrawoman is back! And now, just to settle some confusion, here's a list of who I think would "play" our cast of characters
> 
> Jordan Ellis/Ultrawoman: Lucy Lawless  
> Suzy Corrigan: Sharon Leal  
> Jaime Olsen/Ricochet: Jenna Dewan-Tatum  
> Jill Ellis: Linda Hamilton  
> Kate Ellis: Betty White  
> Director Maddox: Brenda Strong  
> Sgt. Anna Markowitz: Erica Cerra
> 
> More to come, but for now, enjoy and let me know what you thought :=)

******

The entire Soviet Union it seemed had turned out to see Jordan attend the May Day Parade in Red Square. And many, she was thankful to see, didn’t look afraid. Mothers had ushered their children forward to shake her hand. Soldiers had eagerly and shyly offered books or even scrapes of papers and shyly asked for autographs. Everyone it seemed was happy to see her, or at least unafraid.

Flying back across the Bering Sea, she paused at the ice flow where American Eagle had been left behind, finding that a U.S. Navy ship was just in the process of picking him. Waving to the sailors—and ignoring how American Eagle flipped her the bird—she passed on, crossing over Alaska and down into Oregon and Washington.

Swooping low over Blue Harbor, she adjusted her hearing, listening for anything amiss

“ _….I don’t wanna get a haircut, Mom!_ ”

“ _…ah this one’s stupid…_ ”

She stopped suddenly, feeling a chill go through her as she heard the sound of a child crying

“ _…crybaby_ ” a boy’s voice taunted.

Scowling, Jordan banked right, following the sound…

******

Six year old Max Bremen sniffled as the three older, bigger boys surrounded him

Max—affectionately known as ‘Maxie’ by his mother—self-consciously tugged on his t-shit, the one his sister had gotten him for his birthday just last week, the one he really wanted more than anything, the one with a picture of Ultrawoman on it. There were exactly two things that Max absolutely loved in this world: baseball and Ultrawoman, and of those two things, Ultrawoman slightly topped baseball.

Which brought Max to his current predicament. Some of the older boys were picking kids for a sandlot game, and Max wanted to play _so_ badly. But the boys didn’t want to let him play, because his shirt had a picture of Ultrawoman. Then they had gotten mean, called him names, said that he couldn’t like Ultrawoman because she was a girl, and why didn’t he like other aces like Ironwork, or Blight, they were all boys, Ultrawoman was just a girl

“You look _so_ stupid!” one boy spat

“You can’t like Ultrawoman” another spat

“Why not?” Max asked, why couldn’t he like Ultrawoman? She was pretty, and nice, and kind, and beat up bad guys. What wasn’t to like?

“She’s a girl!” one of the boys objected

“Maybe he’s got a crush on her!” one boy, clearly the leader, taunted. His two cronies ‘oooh’ed’ appropriately and then laughed, starting a chant of ‘Max’s in love’

“Stop it!” Maxie yelled

“Leave him be, boys”

A gasp went through the small crowd watching the bullying as Ultrawoman gently landed between the bullies and Maxie, the sunlight glinting off her armor as her cape rustled the early morning breeze

“Now then,” she began “what’s wrong with liking girls?” she asked “am I somehow…’weaker’ than other aces just because I’m a ‘girl’?” she challenged

“Nuh-no” the leader of the bullies stammered out, staring at her with wide, disbelieving eyes

Ultrawoman nodded “No. Exactly,” she turned to Max, crouching down in front of him “ _never_ let anyone tell you that you can’t like something, that you can’t say what you want to say, or think what you want to think, all right?”

Maxie nodded, his face split into a wide, ecstatic grin

Ultrawoman smiled “Good,” leaning forward, she gave Maxie a gentle kiss on the forehead “nice shirt” she remarked as she suddenly took off in a gust of wind

The crowd of bullies suddenly swarmed around Max

“You got kissed by Ultrawoman!” one exclaimed “awesome!”

******

Later that afternoon, Jordan sighed as she sipped her tea. Her little visit to the Soviet Union had proven to be a hit on both sides of the Iron Curtin. Already, Raul Castro had invited her to Cuba, as had the leaders of China, Vietnam, and Cambodia and Laos. It seemed every communist nation wanted her to visit.

Leaning back in her chair, Jordan put those invitations on the back burner for now and opened her copy of the _Tribune_ , unsurprised at the headline ‘ **ULTRAWOMAN MAKES UNOFFICAL HISTORIC VISIT TO USSR** ’. Scowling, she skimmed past the front page story and skimmed the articles below the fold, suddenly freezing as one caught her eyes

‘ _Former state Senator Georgia Latham was found dead onboard her flooded sailboat early this morning just of the coast. Latham, a longtime supporter of aces and former ace herself, had apparently been out sailing in the bay this morning when she ran aground on a sandbar. The boat rapidly flooded and Latham tragically drowned. Latham, an experienced sailor, frequently went out on the bay to sail. Police have ruled the death as a tragic accident_ ’

Jordan sat up as she frowned at the image of the woman in question “Windbreaker” she remembered. Standing up, Jordan scowled as she realized just who might have been responsible for her death…

******

**Blue Harbor Tribune**

The _Blue Harbor Tribune_ was located in the old downtown area of the city, near city hall, and BHPD headquarters. Founded at the same time as the city had, the Tribune had been, from the very beginning, the paper that most of the city turned to for news. Although forced to compete for readership with the rise of other papers and news outlets, the Tribune still remained the most widely read paper in the entire city, thanks in part due to the efforts of editor-in-chief Jill Ellis, who took the paper’s slogan of _’Straight from the Source’_ to heart, as well as priding herself on hard-hitting, integral journalism. The Tribune may not have been the first on the scene of a major story, but it would definitely be the first to have all the facts as they happened.

Housed in a towering—for the 1930s—art deco skyscraper, the Tribune glittered and gleamed whenever the sun shone. Entering the building’s main lobby through the revolving door, Jordan couldn’t help but feel impressed as she took in the scope of the marble space despite visiting her niece on an almost regular basis, even Mars at its height had never quite had buildings as lovely as this.

Crossing the lobby, she headed towards the elevator, passing several framed front pages from momentnous events that paper had covered in the past

**THE WAR IS OVER  
GERMANY SURRENDERS!**

**JAPAN SURRENDERS,  
TWO CITIES IN RUINS FROM U.S. ‘SUPER BOMB’**

One had Jordan pausing

**WHERE HAS SHE GONE?  
ULTRAWOMAN DISAPPEARS!**

Below the headline was a stock shot of her in her armor. One frame over, past the headline announcing the success of the Moon Landing (and mentioning the holographic ‘greeting card’ that Jordan had left for the Apollo astronauts, welcoming humanity to the stars), and past the one announcing the fall of the Berlin Wall, was another front page with the same black-and-white photo, but a far different headline

**SHE’S BACK!!  
ULTRAWOMAN RETURNS AFTER 54 YEARS!!**

Jordan smiled as she pushed for the elevator…

******

The main newsroom of the Tribune was aptly nicknamed the ‘bullpen’ for a reason. Emerging onto the main floor, Jordan was immediately jostled and shoved as she pushed through the crowd of people moving to and fro in some kind of dance that she would never know the steps to. How any of them manage to get where they were going and avoid full head on collision in the process was still something of a mystery.

Reaching the relative center of the room, Jordan approached a lone desk sitting besides a frosted door, which had ‘EDITOR-IN-CHIEF’ stenciled on it. The woman manning the desk looked up, smiling pleasantly at Jordan

“Hello, Dr. Ellis” she greeted

“Hi, Connie,” Jordan smiled back as the door banged open. An irate Jill Ellis leaning out

“BRENNAN!!” she roared

There was a crash, then “Yes, chief?” a nervous male voice asked

“Where’s the report on the dock worker’s strike?” Jill demanded

“Not done yet, Chief”

“Well finish it! Otherwise the only typing you’re going to be doing is _updating your resume!!_ ” Jill blasted back. She took a breath and suddenly seemed to notice Jordan standing there “oh. Hi”

“Hi,” Jordan replied “bad time?”

“For you, never,” Jill beamed and gestured to her office “come on in,” she invited. The interior of Jill’s office was surprisingly small and very cluttered, the desk alone was covered in various papers of various sizes and colors “so, not that I’m complaining, but what brings you by?” Jill asked as she settled down behind her desk “oh, wait, before you answer that, I want a story as to _why_ you were seen in Moscow this morning during the May Day parade”

“The Soviets invited me,” Jordan replied “PR stunt”

Jill scowled, clearly sensing that there was more to the story “Hmm, all right,” she finally allowed. She leaned back in her chair “so, what brings you by?”

In answer, Jordan held up her copy of the _Tribune_ “Windbreak is dead”

“Oh, yeah, I remember this, tragic” Jill commented

“Jill, I knew Georgia Latham personally, she was a master sailor. She would have _never_ run aground. Ever”

Jill frowned “You’re thinking foul play?” she asked

“Maybe,” Jordan sighed “I don’t know. Just…something feels off”

“Good enough for me,” Jill nodded “Connie, where’s the police report of the death of Senator Latham?” she asked over the intercom

“ _It’s on your desk_ ” Connie replied

Jill and Jordan both looked at the mountain of papers covering the desk

“Well so is the Lindberg baby and Amelia Earhart’s plane!” Jill blasted back “ _where_ on my desk?!”

The door swung open, Connie swiftly marching in and easily withdrawing a sheet of paper form the pile, holding it up and waving in Jill’s face for emphasis

“Thanks,” Jill snatched it from her “what am I paying you for? Get back to work,” she ordered. She sighed as she looked up at Jordan “I’d kill her but she’s the only one who knows how to find anything around here, so I’d be left with a dead body and no way of finding the phone number for the morgue,” she looked back at the paper in her hands “huh, looks like you’re right. According to the coast guard report, they found traces of some kind of metal in the silt inside the boat. Which doesn’t make sense, since the bay’s been clean for nearly forty years,” she smirked at Jordan “ever think of going into journalism?”

Jordan snorted “Medicine suits me just fine, thanks,” she nodded to the report “so, what was so unusual about this metal?”

“Apparently it was a ‘bio-synthetic polymer, containing trace amounts of iron and quartz, consistent with industrial manufacturing’, Whatever the hell that means”

Jordan nodded “All right, thanks, Jill”

“Sure,” Jill nodded “hey, drop by for dinner tonight?” she offered “you can bring Suzy”

Jordan smiled “As long as you’re not cooking”

Jill snorted “No. Strictly takeout, I swear”

“Then we’ll be there” Jordan nodded. Turning to leave, she was halfway across the room when Jill blasted out

“Connie! Where’s the Berkman interview?!”

“It’s on your desk” Jordan smirked

“It’s—” Connie started

“…on my desk. I know, I know,” Jill sighed. There was a rustling sound "got it"…


	5. Adrift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update! Enjoy! :=)

******

**The Pacific Ocean**

Jordan swooped low over the water, just barely skimming it as she squinted at the water, trying to see beneath it, the sea breeze rustling her cape as she flew

 _’Come on,’_ she thought angrily _‘where are you? You had to have seen me by now’_

The water suddenly started churning, something large moving beneath it as a brilliant light flared up from the deep, surrounding Jordan as a large, domed shape emerged from the water

 _‘Finally’_ Jordan thought, swooping low and flying directly into the light, emerging into a domed city of sorts, armed guards swiftly surrounding her as she landed. The entire complex looked as if it had been lifted straight from the cover of an old science fiction magazine, an undersea base as viewed through the lens of Buck Rodgers and Flash Gordan

“Ultrawoman”

Turning, Jordan scowled at the woman swiftly marching up to her. Dressed somewhat like an pirate out of an old movie, complete with long overcoat and a saber at her hip, the woman cut an imposing figure, it was clear that she was in charge as she boldly stepped up to the Martian

“I don’t like visitors,” she proclaimed “even if they’re aliens”

“And ‘hello’ to you too, Maura” Jordan replied. The other woman’s face broke into a grin as she pulled the Martian into a firm hug

“My god! You’ve gotten old!” the woman ‘Maura’ exclaimed as she silently dismissed the armed troops “so,” she began as she led Jordan down a hallway “what brings you by?”

“Georgia Latham” Jordan said without preamble

“What about her?” Maura asked

“She’s _dead_ , Maura,” Jordan explained “killed when her sailboat ran aground on a sandbar in the bay, drowned actually”

“And you think _I_ did it?” Maura exclaimed, aghast

“You’ve never been exactly silent in your dislike for the ‘surface world’,” Jordan pointed out “and I know that your drone subs frequently patrol that area just outside the bay. So?”

“Jordan, I swear to you, it wasn’t me,” Maura pleaded “when have I ever lied to you?” Jordan still didn’t look convinced “look, here,” Maura led her over to a wall panel of some kind, pulling up a map of the seafloor “every one of these dots represents one of my drone subs, their positions are logged daily, and anytime— _anytime_ —they collide or even just get too close to a surface vessel they send out a message and then change course to avoid a collision,” she looked up a Jordan pleadingly “Jordan, _please_ , you have to believe me. I know when we first met I wasn’t the most…agreeable sort, but I’ve changed”

“When we first met you were sinking ships” Jordan remarked, never taking her eyes off the screen

“Only because those idiots were polluting the oceans and their bombs were destroying coral reefs and killing my citizens!” Maura hissed

“Still angry at the world I see,” Jordan noted dispassionately. She sighed “but…I believe you, Maura”

Maura looked relieved “So, was it just an accident?” she asked “Georgia, I mean?”

Jordan shrugged “I don’t know, the coast guard found some kind of bio-synthetic polymer in the silt in the boat”

“Now that is strange” Maura remarked

Jordan nodded “Yes it is,” she agreed “well,” she straightened up “I’ll leave you to it”

“Jordan,” Maura called out “if you do find out anything, you’ll let me know?” she asked “Georgia was my friend too, you know”

“You could always just come back up and find out yourself” Jordan hinted

Maura shook her head “No. I’m done with the surface world. The sea is my home now”

Jordan sighed “As you wish, Dr. Curry” with that she took off with a gust of air, flying back through the opening in the dome and streaking across the sky. The domed city swiftly sinking beneath the waves behind her, leaving no trace of its existence…

******

Suzy Corrigan slammed her locker shut, jumping as Jordan suddenly appeared from behind the shut door

“Jesus, Jordan,” she panted “you nearly gave me a heart attack!” she accused

“Sorry,” Jordan shrugged “didn’t mean to scare you,” she frowned and titled her head as if listening “and your heat sounds just fine, by the way” she pronounced

Suzy stared at her “You…can hear that?” she asked

Jordan nodded as she went over to her own locker and changed out of her scrubs and lab coat. Frowning, Suzy stared. Jordan normally changed in the small changing room off in a corner, the reason she’d always given being that she didn’t like being looked at, but Suzy now knew the real reason.

Jordan’s entire body, from the shoulders down was covered in various tattoos and scars. Although Suzy had seen Jordan nude after she’d been brought in after being stabbed by Captain Dynamic, Suzy hadn’t exactly had time to take in the scenery, not with Jordan’s life hanging the balance. But, now, since Jordan seemed to not be bothered by her presence as she shrugged out of her shirt, Suzy was free to indulge her curiosity.

On Jordan’s back, between her shoulder blades was, was a rounded disc-shaped tattoo made of up of small, angular glyphs arranged in three interlocking circles, although what they signified Suzy had no idea. Below that, in the middle of her back, was a large X-shaped scar, it was deep, looking like it might have gone down to the bone when it was fresh, and each point of the X was crowned with a small circular indent, equally as deep. The rest of her body was alternately covered with strange glyphs and tattoos, some of the tattoos looked deliberate, like they were badges of honor or something similar. Jordan did say that she was from a warrior race, while others like looked stab wounds and similar, like those one would get from a blade of some kind. But that scar on Jordan’s back fascinated Suzy in a morbid and macabre way.

“It’s a prisoner brand” Jordan said suddenly

Suzy jumped and quickly looked away “Sorry, what?”

“The scar on my back,” Jordan explained, smirking at Suzy as she tapped the mirror on her locker door, showing that she’d seen Suzy watching “it’s a prisoner brand,” she explained “the people who killed my own would brand us with that mark as a way of keeping track of their prisoners”

Suzy grimaced “That’s disgusting” she exclaimed

“We certainly thought so,” Jordan remarked wryly “my people may have been ruthless in war, brutal even, but we were never cruel, we never abused prisoners of war, we never slaughtered children,” she frowned, a darkness clouding her face “but those things…they were the embodiment of cruelty”

“What…,” Suzy took a breath and tried again “why did they attack?” she asked “these, I’m assuming, aliens?”

Jordan sighed “I don’t know, we never knew, they just…attacked. Without provocation, without warning. They just…started killing”

“Just like that?” Suzy asked

Jordan nodded “Just like that,” she shut her locker and finished slipping her shirt on “come on, Jill’s waiting and if we’re not there in time she and her new beau are going to end up making out on the couch”

“How can you be so sure?” Suzy wondered, filing the information about Jordan’s past away for later review

“Oh, trust me,” Jordan chortled “I’m sure…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone's wondering 'Maura Curry' is to Aquaman what Superman is to Jordan with a heavy dose of Captain Nemo thrown in


	6. Inferno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! Enjoy! :=). Also, here's two more 'actors' I think would be playing two more characters
> 
> Crenshaw: W. Morgan Sheppard  
> Geoff Gray/Captain Dynamic: Chris Wood (sorry, Chris, you're just too good at playing smarmy)

******

“You know, you folks got some nice digs here,” Geoff Gray commented as he looked around the dank and dingy operating room. He propped himself up on the table “a little color, some nice lace dollies, and this place’ll look great in no time”

To his left, Crenshaw smirked “I’m glad you think so seriously about this, Mr. Gray” he rumbled

Gray smirked “Hey, I took out an ace, what more do you want?”

“Windbreaker was an old woman,” Crenshaw countered “and despite her abilities, is hardly a match for Ultrawoman”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gray dismissed “c’mon, I’d like to see that Martian bitch deal with me now” he grinned

Crenshaw smirked “Well, in that case,” he held up another control device, pressing a button. Gray grunted and doubled over a bit “are you ready to be the man who saved the world?”

With a grunt, Gray straightened up, grinning cruelly “Hell yeah” he breathed…

******

Suzy gently maneuvered the car back, adjusted the steering wheel, then gently eased the car forward; struggling with the wheel as she mentally cursed her lack of power steering

“OK,” she sighed as she set the parking brake and shut off the engine “you _really_ need to learn how to drive”

Sitting next to her in the passenger seat, Jordan smirked “Why bother when you’re so good at it?” she teased.

Suzy scoffed as she opened her door and got out, Jordan silently following her towards Jill’s apartment building. Jill lived in one of the older neighborhoods in the city; it was quieter, filled with older buildings that housed older residents, which while in some ways lacking modern conveniences, had much more character than the newer condos going up on the waterfront.

Jill’s building was a tall gray art deco building, with gargoyles keeping watch above the door

“Oh! How can you stand this cold?” Suzy demanded, pulling her windbreaker tighter and shivering, as Jordan seemed to relish the cold night air whipping around them. Personally, Suzy couldn’t wait to get inside, and hoped that Jill had had her central heating fixed, the last she’d been invited over for dinner, she spent the entire time shivering and huddled under a throw by the fireplace.

“Oh, I love it,” Jordan grinned. She took a deep breath “feel that? How it stirs your blood, makes you feel _alive_?” she sighed, suddenly looking sad “it reminds me of home,” she explained “my former home, that is”

******

They had entered the elevator in a comfortable silence, neither of them speaking until they reached Jill’s door, Jordan knocking. The door swinging open seconds later

“Hey, you’re right on time!” Jill grinned “come on in,” she invited, ushering them in to a large, cozy-looking room. The interior of the apartment was furnished simply; the furniture was plain and understated, clearly bought more for comfort and practicality than for appearance. Directly across from the door was an art deco fireplace, while to the left was the dinning are, and the kitchen, which was closed off by a swinging door. To the right a large window which gave a lovely view of the city, while a door off in far corner led to the bedroom and bathroom.

“Oh, uh, Aunt Jordan, _this_ is Charlie!” Jill introduced her new beau.

For a moment Suzy and Jordan stared, before Jordan recovered and warmly shook his hand

“Jordan Ellis, nice to meet you”

“Charlie Epps, nice to meet you” he replied, which snapped Suzy out of her trance

“Hi, sorry, Suzy Corrigan”

“Charlie”

Suzy looked over at Jordan “Uh, Jordan? Why don’t we help Jill with dinner?” not giving the Martian a chance to respond, she grabbed Jordan’s hand and pulled her into the kitchen, grabbing her shoulders and twisting her around “OK!” she hissed “you are seeing what I’m seeing, right?”

“He’s younger than her,” Jordan nodded “so?”

“Jordan!” Suzy hissed “he’s not just younger than her; he’s someone’s _baby_! How old do you think he is? Nineteen? Twenty? Twenty-one?”

“Twenty-six, actually,”

Suzy flushed as Jill breezed in and grabbed a plate “and by the way, Jordan’s older than you, Suzy. _Much_ older. Like…three hundred _years_ older”

With that she breezed back out, leaving Suzy to stare at Jordan, who smirked

“I’m three hundred and seventeen years old,” she explained. She shrugged “actually, I’m still just a teenager by my world’s standards,” she turned to follow Jill “coming, Suzy?”

Suzy took a breath “Fucking hell!” she hissed…

******

Dinner was going well; Charlie was proving that, despite the obvious age gap, he was very intelligent and insightful, and above all, mature, and more than a match for Jill. In fact, he was much more mature than many of the doctors that Suzy encountered on a daily basis, most of whom were in their thirties and forties.

“So, how did you two meet?” Jordan asked, spearing her shrimp scampi

“Actually I crashed into his car,” Jill explained with a chuckle. At Suzy and Jordan’s twin confused expressions, she explained “I was backing up and hit the gas too hard and rammed right into his car”

“Yeah, my car’s hood looks like an accordion now” Charlie pitched in

“Well, I see bad driving runs in the family,” Suzy chuckled. She nodded at Jordan “this one can’t even drive, she takes the bus everywhere”

“Hey, we got great public transit here in Blue Harbor” Charlie chuckled

“Thank you, Charlie, my thoughts exactly” Jordan beamed

“Oh, that reminds me,” Jill chuckled “Jordan, I’ve bought you a bicycle”

Jordan blinked, her fork halfway to her mouth “Why?” she asked

“So you won’t have to take the bus everywhere” Jill explained

“I don’t know how to ride a bike,” Jordan admitted “never learned, just like driving a car”

“Whoa, where did you come from?” Charlie chuckled

Jordan chuckled “Mars” she answered. Charlie grinned, clearly thinking that she was joking. Jill and Suzy shared an uneasy look, while most aces didn’t hide their real identities, most people thought that Ultrawoman didn’t have a civilian identity, they thought of her as this guardian angel type, who spent all her time in the armor and cape.

“Speaking of Mars,” Jill spoke up “did either of you hear the news? Congress has subpoenaed Ultrawoman”

“No” Suzy shook her head

“Yeah,” Jill nodded “in fact,” she stood up and grabbed the TV remote, turning on the TV to the local news “yeah, here”

“ _…continuing our coverage on Capitol Hill, Congress has just announced that it has subpoenaed Ultrawoman to appear before a joint session of Congress. As Senator Josiah Brandt, head of the Committee on Ace Activities and Affairs, stated, ‘we cannot allow a being of this power to continue to run amok unchecked’. Among the questions to be asked is why Ultrawoman forcibly removed the Soviet missile instillations in Cuba in 1963 during the Cuban Missile Crisis in defiance of President Kennedy’s orders. Since its announcement, public opinion has become swiftly divided, with many people on both the left and the right arguing the merits of the subpoena. Some have argued that having Ultrawoman appearing before Congress is nothing more than an attempt by conservative elements in the government to place blame, citing the HUAC hearings during the Cold War, which lead to many aces being forced into early retirement. While others argue that Mother Mars needs to be held accountable for her actions. In related news, the President weighed in on the announcement, posting a tweet stating that ‘the alien’ needs to ‘be tried for her crimes’, adding the hashtag ‘NotMyMotherMars’_ ”

“Charming,” Jordan drawled “what will they think of next?” Jill smirked as Charlie shrugged “you don’t agree, Charlie?” Jordan asked

“Oh,” he jumped “it’s just…well, I think she should…” he trailed off, clearly uncomfortable

“…that she should ‘own up’ as it were for her mistakes?” Jordan pressed gently. Charlie nodded as a breaking news bulletin suddenly scrolled across the TV screen

“ _This just in. A massive four alarm fire has broken out in an apartment complex in the Iron Heights neighborhood. The cause of the fire is currently unknown as this time, but eyewitness statements indicate that the fire started about fifteen minutes ago and spread rapidly. According to a spokesperson with the Blue Harbor Fire Department, several adjacent buildings have already been evacuated and that the fire is spreading rapidly. We will bring you more updates as this story develops_ ”

Jordan slowly stood up, her chair loudly scrapping against the floor

“Excuse me” she said politely

“Something I said?” Charlie wondered

Jordan smiled as she slipped off her glasses “Not at all” she replied as her clothing—a simple gray button down blouse, black slacks, and loafers—suddenly shimmered, the fabric rippling, taking on a metallic, scale-like appearance similar to chainmail as it took on a bright, iridescent blue color, while a billowing crimson cape unfurled from her back to trail to the floor.

Straightening, she smirked at Charlie’s gob smacked expression…

******

The fire had already consumed the top five floors of the ten story building and was rapidly spreading to the lower floors.

Down on the ground, Blue Harbor Fire Chief, August Fitzgerald barked out orders to his men as the seemingly-fearless men and women of the Blur Harbor Fire Department struggled to control the blaze

“Chief! We’re going to need some help over here!” one firefighter yelled as an explosion suddenly burst through the air

“What the hell was that?!” August demanded over his radio

“ _Gas explosion, Chief!_ ” someone replied “ _looks a water heater just blew. We got two men trapped up on the sixth floor, but we can’t get to them_ ”

“Damn it!” August swore as a loud crackling sound caught his attention. Looking up, he watched as two men on the ladder truck were tying to hose down the fire through one of the windows. Stepping closer, August could see that the already-warped fire escape was going to come down, the masonry having been weakened by the heat “no, no,” August started sprinting forward “GET OUT OF THERE!!!” he screamed “GET OUT!!”

With an audible crumbling sound, the fire escape and part of the wall it had been secured to, suddenly broke lose, colliding with the ladder from truck. The ladder violently snapped back, the two firefighters being flung from the basket to tumble through the air.

There a sudden gust of wind and a blue figure suddenly shot across the sky, easily catching the two men, depositing them on the ground, and then catching the falling ladder, all in one fluid burst of speed

August breathed a sigh of relief as Ultrawoman gently set the now-mangled ladder safely down on the ground

“Who’s in charge here?” she called out as she landed

August stepped forward “I am”

“What can I do to help?”

“We got two men trapped on the sixth floor,” August explained “the way’s blocked, none of us can through to them”

“What about the roof?” Ultrawoman asked, and August had to remind himself that Ultrawoman had always encouraged people to help themselves first, to not rely on her to solve problems they could fix themselves.

August shook his head “The heat’s too much; anyone who tried would be roasted in seconds! This whole neighborhood was built before modern safety regs, half of the place is still made of wood pre-treated with flammable chemicals! The whole building is a giant matchstick!”

Ultrawoman nodded “Pull your men back and have paramedics standing by with oxygen” she instructed before taking off in gust of wind, flying directly into the heart of the inferno, bursting right through the side of the building.

For a long moment no one spoke, no one moved, all eyes were on the blazing inferno. A minute passed and no one emerged from the flames

“Do you think she’ll get ‘em out?” someone asked

“I don’t know,” August admitted. There was another explosion, a fireball rapidly bursting from the building as Ultrawoman emerged, landing in an awkward tumble, the two firefighters each slung over one shoulder, as she coughed and choked for air

“Get some oxygen in here!” August barked out. The paramedics surged forward, four descending on the two firefighters and one on Ultrawoman, handing her an oxygen mask. She took a deep breath from it and then waved the paramedic off, staggering over to the two firefighters

“I found them buried under a pile of roof supports,” she explained as she crouched down next to one of them and slipped his helmet off, fingers gently examining his head “no sign of skull fracture…pupil response…normal,” she held up her hand to his face “how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two” he coughed out. She nodded as she turned to his companion, a young woman

“Easy, easy,” she soothed as the woman tried to sit up. She gently prodded her feet, squeezing at her toes “can you feel that?” the woman nodded “any numbness or pain in your arms or legs?” another shake “OK, good. How’s your breathing, any shortness of breath?”

The woman coughed “No, none”

Ultrawoman nodded, smiling “Good,” she turned to August “they’ll have to be taken to the hospital, but I think they’ll be fine” she explained

August nodded “Didn’t know you knew about medicine” he remarked

She smirked “I’m doctor in my day job,” she chuckled at August’s surprised expression “what? You didn’t think I spent the last fifty-four years just sitting on my ass all day, now did you?”

A terrified scream suddenly pierced the air

“Oh my god! Someone’s still in there!!”

Ultrawoman turned and without a word charged back into the flames…

******

Jordan crashed through the ceiling, coughing at the smoke. Fire may not burn her, but she could still succumb to smoke inhalation just like anyone else

“Hello?!” she called out, adjusting her hearing she found another heartbeat in the room. But it was strangely calm, steady. Jordan slowed her pace, something was wrong she realized as she rounded a half-demolished wall, finding a figure huddled in the corner “hello?” she asked.

The figure turned in a lighting quick movement, a hand lashing out and catching Jordan in the chest, catapulting her across the room, smashing through two weakened support beams to land in an undignified sprawl

“So _predictable_ ,” a familiar voice sneered “pathetic!”

Jordan sat up, staring at her assailant in shock

“Gray?” she demanded

Geoff Gray smirked at her as he held up a hand, a series of metallic shards emerging from his skin

“No,” he answered “Phalanx”

The shards suddenly shot out of his arm to fly through the air towards her with unerring accuracy. Ducking, Jordan threw out her cape, holding up like a shield, grimacing as the shards easily tore through the alien material to slice across her face and hands, one of them embedding itself in her arm, thin enough to work its way through the gaps in her armor’s scales.

Wincing at the sting, she took stock; she didn’t feel the pain or the burn of dark matter, so the shards weren't made of dark matter, so therefore it was something that could pierce her skin, something like dark matter, but not.

There was a loud hum and a figure in blue armor suddenly crashed through the wall. Gray turned

“Hello, Jaime,” he sneered, firing off a second round of shards at Jaime Olsen, who quickly dodged and launched a hard kick towards his face, which Gray easily caught and dragged her down to the floor “you always were a klutz” he scoffed as he turned back to Jordan

Jaime threw out a hand, aiming a blast of energy at his back, while Jordan did the same from the front. But, before either blast could reach him, Gray suddenly _dissolved_ , his entire form, including his clothes turning into a swarm of metallic shards which quickly scattered. Now unobstructed, the two blasts collided, resulting in a massive shockwave that obliterated the five top floors of the building and catapulted Jaime and Jordan out, Jaime landing on the pavement, Jordan on the roof an adjacent building.

Staggering to her feet, Jaime flew through the demolished building, quickly finding Jordan slowly sitting up

“Hey, you OK?” Jaime asked as she landed

“I’ve been worse,” Jordan groaned “thanks for the help” she panted out

“Yeah, well, some help I was,” Jaime scowled

“Just remember to have better aim next time” Jordan chuckled

“How is he still alive?” Jaime demanded “how did he do…do… _that_?” she gestured to Jordan’s arm. Wincing, Jordan wrenched the shard out of her skin and held it up to the dim light

“What is this?” she wondered as Jaime leaned in to examine it

“Don’t know,” Jaime admitted “but,” she brightened “I know where we can find out”

“Maddox?” Jordan asked

Jaime grinned “Better…”


	7. Special Crimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! Enjoy! :=)

******

**Blue Harbor Police Waterfront Division  
16th Precinct**

The BHPD’s 16th Precinct was located in the old Garment District on the waterfront, occupying a renovated warehouse space at the old port. Originally established to coordinate law enforcement efforts with the port authority—which fell under the jurisdiction of the city’s transit authority—during a series of brutal murders targeting prostitutes working the waterfront in the 1980’s, the 16th Precinct soon became redundant when the old port—which had been falling behind modern regulation for years—was finally closed down in 1990 and the new port was established half a mile down the coast.

Despite this, the BHPD maintained the 16th Precinct, where is quickly gained a reputation as a dumping ground for officers whose action, while not necessarily corrupt or criminal, still proved to be an embarrassment or a bother to the Department’s reputation. Thus, it was the height of irony that the 16th Precinct was now currently home to one of the most specialized, highly-funded, and high-publicized divisions of the entire department.

“Where are we?” Jordan asked as she and Jaime flew side by side

“The BHPD,” Jaime replied as she motioned for Jordan to wait as she dropped down through an open skylight, landing in the middle of a busy squad room. Touching the left ‘ear’ of her helmet, Jaime deactivated the suit, her armor shimmering as it collapsed in on itself, the Martian technology that it was made from collapsing it into a simple ear cuff that looked for all the world like a Bluetooth earpiece.

Taking a breath, Jaime looked around the room “relax, guys, it’s just me,” she called out “hope no one minds but I brought…” she trailed off as Jordan softly landed besides her and every cop in the room suddenly stopped whatever they were doing and simply _stared_ at Jordan

Behind her, Jaime heard Jordan take a breath

“I _hate_ it when they all stare at me” she muttered as she took a step forward, shaking hands with officers as she passed, offering general platitudes on their good work. It wasn’t that she devalued their efforts, far from it fact, it was just why did they have to act like she was God?

“Ms. Olsen,” a familiar woman approached the duo “call ahead next time”

Jaime chuckled

“Sorry. Oh, uh, Ultrawoman, Captain Anna Markowitz, she runs the SCU”

“Pleasure,” Jordan shook Anna’s hand. She turned to Jaime “now, _why_ are we here?”

“Oh, sorry, this is the ‘SCU’ or ‘Special Crimes Unit’,” Jaime explained as Anna led them down a flight of stairs “see, ever since you came back, everybody’s been worried about all the damage that you…er, that aces in general, can cause”

“And that’s where we come in,” Anna picked up “the BHPD got a federal grant to create a specialized taskforce just to deal with aces”

“I’ll try to take that as a complement,” Jordan drawled “so, what does Jaime fit into all of this?” she wondered as they emerged in what looked like an underground laboratory of sorts that had been, at one point, possibly an underground parking garage. Various pieces of equipment, many of which looked to have been jury-rigged from other, existing items were scattered around the large room

“I work for the BHPD now,” Jaime explained “they actually took out ad space in the _Tribune_ , asking for engineers and other designers, and I took the job”

“She does our technical work, tech support; if you will,” Anna explained “tries to figure out how to stop the latest alien or Tomorrow Person out there”

“With the stipulation that I don’t have to build lethal weapons,” Jaime interjected. She headed to a workbench a picked up a silver disc about the size and general shape of a hockey puck “this is a ‘nonlwep’,” she explained “short for ‘non-lethal weapon’. Watch” turning, she flung the disc towards a test dummy propped up in a corner, the disc sliding across the floor as easily as a hockey puck across the ice. When it reached a certain distance, the disc suddenly exploded, splattering the dummy with thick, viscous-looking yellow goo. The dummy was propelled back against the wall by the force of the blast, where it hung from the wall, trapped in the sticky goo

“Impressive” Jordan noted

“And completely non-lethal,” Jaime beamed “I’m hoping that the rest of the Department will adopt them soon. No more ‘excessive force’.”

“Here’s hoping,” Anna smirked “well, Ultrawoman, Ms. Olsen, I’ve got some paperwork to sign,” she turned to leave “try not to blow anything up this time, Jamie” she added over her shoulder

“One time! It was one time!” Jaime called back as the other woman disappeared up the stairs.

Now alone, Jordan turned to Jamie, smirking

“She likes you” she proclaimed

“Who?” Jaime asked as she set up a microscope

“Her, Markowitz,” Jordan explained. She leaned against the workbench and grinned teasingly at the young woman “she _likes_ you, Jaime. A lot”

Jaime stopped what she was doing and stared at the Martian

“Maybe that little blast scrambled your brain,” she stated “but, in case you didn’t notice, I’m not gay”

Jordan rolled her eyes

“Humans,” she scoffed “when are you _finally_ going to learn that ‘gay’ and ‘straight’ are just arbitrary words that have no barring on actual sexual attraction?” she muttered with a disbelieving shake of her head “so, what is that thing anyway?” she asked as Jaime peered at the shard through the microscope

“Well, its not flesh, that’s for sure,” Jaime announced. She removed the shard and, taking a small rotary saw, began to gently cut off a small piece at the end off, which took some doing. Finally getting a large enough sample off, she placed it in the nearby mass spectrometer, which spit out the results almost instantly “huh,” Jaime frowned “according to the mass spec, eighty percent of this thing is made of a malleable bio—“

“…synthetic polymer,” Jordan finished. She scowled “just like what the coast guard found in Georgia Latham’s sailboat” she growled

“So,” Jaime sighed “he killed Windbreaker,” she shook her head “I think I’m going to be sick”

“Jamie, you couldn’t have known” Jordan reminded her

“I was _married_ to him for two _years_!” Jaime hissed angrily “he was in my house! In my bed! Around my _daughter_!”

Jordan firmly gripped her by the shoulders

“Listen to me,” she began “you _could not_ have known, all right?” she implored “I’m not going to lie you; I don’t think Gray was ever a ‘good’ man, but it’s a long leap from ‘not a good man’ to ‘murderer’.”

Jaime sighed, raking a hand through her hair

“I know,” she sighed “but…god!”

“I know,” Jordan nodded “sometimes, when it comes to family, we don’t always really ‘know’ our loved ones as well as we think,” she explained “I mean take me and Jill, I didn’t—” she broke off suddenly, head snapping over to look over her shoulder

“Jordan? What is it?” Jaime asked as Jordan slowly tilted her head as if listening

“Keep working!” she suddenly ordered and then she was gone in a burst of speed and a streak of red light…

******

**Blue Moon Bay**

The Blue Moon Bay was a large crescent-shaped inlet of the Pacific Ocean, whose outline the city of Blue Harbor followed, earning it the seldom-used nickname of ‘Blue Moon’. First discovered by the Native American tribes who settled the region up to four thousand years ago, the first ‘official’ record of discovery was by the Spanish ship _Coronado_ , whose crew used the natural harbor as shelter from a particularly vicious costal storm in the eighteenth century and gave the area its name, owing to the deep blue color of the water.

When the state was admitted into the Union as the 42nd state in 1889, the shores of the Bay had already been settled for several years, as a series of small fishing communities—which would all eventually merge to become the modern city of Blue Harbor—had sprung up along the shore at various points throughout the decade.

By the 1920s, the Bay remained as a major source of fishing, but had also become a destination for boating and kayaking, as well as a major seaport. To this day, the bay could frequently be crowded with various sailboats, freighters, tankers, and private yachts.

One yacht in particular stood out from among the rest, owing to both its sixty foot length and the notoriety of its owner. Currently below deck on this yacht, Jill Ellis was cursing her luck

“Well, well, Ms. Jill Ellis,”

The thug holding her at gunpoint let her press pass drop to the deck of the yacht with an air of indifference. There were about twenty of them or so, all dressed in very expensive suits and all armed with expensive-looking guns, nothing short of the very best for Blue Harbor’s top mobster after all.

Since the early-90s, Antonio ‘Little Tony’ Vitti had been the head of the city’s criminal underworld, with connections to everything from the drug imports from cartels in South America to human trafficking and illegal arms from the USSR and the former Warsaw Pact, Little Tony Vitti was quite possibly the most wanted man on the West Coast, his drugs, guns, and kidnapped women flooded Blue Harbor’s streets on a daily basis, becoming a blight on the city’s reputation. Due to having a couple of state senators in his back pocket Vitti had largely avoided persecution for decades, despite having been publicly identified and known as the head of a large criminal empire in the mid-1990s.

The reporter who managed to find evidence directly linking Vitti to something—anything—criminal would not only earn themselves a Pulitzer Prize, but also bring down the biggest mob boss since, possibly, Al Capone.

Jill Ellis had hoped to be that reporter. A hope that was slowly fading as Vitti’s top goons surrounded her

“You used to be a big thorn in Mr. Vitti’s side” the main thug continued

“ ‘Used to be’?” Jill echoed, raising an eyebrow

“Oh yeah,” the man—a short, stumpy man with a weasel-like face dressed in a neatly tailored Italian suit—nodded “you and them articles have been making things _very hard_ for Mr. Vitti” he continued

“That supposed to make me cry or something?” Jill scoffed

The man—who Jill was already mentally calling ‘Weasel’—smirked

“We’ve been thinking of how to kill you,” he began “we thought about just giving you a drug overdose, you know? Nice, quiet death,” he gestured to the small but highly productive meth lab behind him as his companions loaded their guns and took aim at Jill “…but,” Weasel continued, chuckling darkly “why waste perfectly good meth?”

The guns suddenly burst to life. Jill cringed, watching as if in slow-motion at the burst of flame from the barrels slowly expanded out, gasping as a figure in blue suddenly dropped down in front of her, shielding her from the hail of bullets with ease

“Oh. God,” Jill breathed “there you are. You’re late,” she accused as Jordan easily deflected the bullets, swatting them away like flies to pinwheel off through the air to strike and obliterate various expensive—and fragile— _object de arts_ scattered around the room “I got something to tell you!” Jill called out over the gunfire

“Can it _wait_?!” Jordan demanded

“Nuh—” Jill began, only to duck as a bullet suddenly whizzed past her nose, hitting the wood paneling besides her head with a sharp whistle and a puff of splinters “yes!”

“Whoa! Whoa! Hold it! Hold it you guys!” Weasel suddenly called out. The gunfire slowly died down “Ultrawoman,” Weasel began “we got a message for you” he announced

With a growl Jordan suddenly threw out a hand, a shimmering stream of crimson energy slicing across the room to obliterate the meth lab in a spectacular—but brief—pyrotechnic display

“What could you _possibly_ have to say to me that I’d want to hear?” she demanded as the meth lab fire rapidly died down, and not for the first time Jill was surprised by how she’d missed the raw _power_ that her aunt held, the same power that Weasel seemed to realizing as he suddenly paled, visibly shaking and sweating

“Oh…Jesus,” he panted as he glanced back at the smoldering meth lab “we…we were told to…tell you that, that since you’re gonna be talkin’ to Congress may, maybe, maybe you could…put in a good word for Mr. Vitti,” he explained as he shakily held out a cell phone towards Jordan, cringing as he did so ‘h, here, I, I got him on the, on the phone” he stammered out…

******

At his lavish estate in the Cascade foothills above the city, Little Tony Vitti lounged in a chair by his pool enjoying the early morning sun as he answered the phone

“Yeah, Mickey?” he asked, frowning when he didn’t receive an answer “Mickey? Goddamn it! Mickey!” he roared

A creaking groan made him look up, gasping as something large suddenly landed in his pool, a geyser of water suddenly bursting out from the pool as its entire contents emptied in seconds, the miniature tsunami sweeping Little Tony up and sending him into the bushes six feet away.

Spluttering and coughing, he swiped at his eyes and stared at the sight of his sixty foot long yacht now resting _vertically_ in the pool, having literally dropped out of the sky to crash there, some of his goons now dangled out of the windows from ropes tied around their waists, shouting and screaming to be cut down. As he stared, a paper airplane suddenly drifted down to land at his feet. Opening it, Little Tony found a simple handwritten message on it.

__

_You still want to talk?_

Whimpering for his mother, he watched as a figure in blue and a red cape disappear into the sky…

******

“You know, he has a plane too” Jill pointed out as they flew away

“Don’t tempt me,” Jordan growled out “are you all right?” she asked

“I’m good,” Jill nodded. She held out her arm “thanks for the watch, by the way” she added, her wristwatch’s face glinting in the light, a series of alien symbols scrolling down its surface

“Don’t mention it,” Jordan dismissed, reaching out to gently twist the dial, the symbols stopping “it’s a little too loud up close,” she explained “so, what did you want to tell me?” she asked

“Ah,” Jill nodded “the government’s is upping the ante, they’re not just ‘asking’ you to appear before Congress anymore; they’re ‘ordering’ you to. As in, if you don’t appear, the Air Force will shoot you down”

“Charming,” Jordan drawled “so…how long do I have?”

“Don’t know,” Jill admitted “a few weeks at the most probably”

Jordan shook her head in clear disbelief

“Idiots,” she muttered “by the way,” she began “how’s Charlie doing?”

“Better,” Jill nodded “he’s started blinking again”

Jordan chuckled

“Well, that’s always a good start” she remarked…


	8. A Day in the Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! "The Age of Heroes" is back, enjoy :=)

******

**Whalen Plaza**

Built in 1962 to honor the Century 21 Exposition being held in Seattle, the Blue Harbor Monorail had never been intended to be more than a show for the crowds. Inspired by Chicago’s famous ‘L’, the monorail had originally been designed to ferry visitors around the city and then be dismantled once the fair was completed. However, once the fair ended, some city leaders suddenly realized that the monorail could be used as a cheap form of mass transit for the city, supplementing the city’s small and overworked fleet of buses.

Opponents of this plan quickly objected over what they saw as a waste of space and money, citing the expense that simply building the monorail for the Expo had cost, and argued that to expand the system into a viable form of mass transit would cost far too much money.

Many in the press targeted the monorail’s designer—and chief supporter of the idea to use it for public transit—R.W. Whalen, earning the monorail the then-derisive nickname of the ‘rail whale’, after a reporter for the _Tribune_ unfavorably likened the look of the train cars to whales.

Despite the opposition, the plan went through and, today, more than a quarter million passengers—Blue Harborites and tourists alike—rode the now-affectionately-named ‘Whale’ everyday. Like the Chicago ‘L’ which it was inspired by, the monorail was elevated, with stations of varying size scattered throughout the city suspended above the city streets.

The monorail’s main terminal, Whalen Plaza, sat in the middle of Harbor Square in area known collectively as ‘The Pipe’, near city hall. Designed to be the main hub for the entire system, Whalen Plaza was the largest station in the entire city.

Suspended one story above street level, it extended two more stories high, with the uppermost level opening out onto the platform. Following the revitalization efforts that underwent in 2001, the station was one of several structures to undergo a massive renovation.

While the first story merely consisted of the support struts keeping the complex above ground, the second story consisted of ticket windows, vending machines and—following the renovation—shops for passengers to while away the time if they missed their train. Once their train arrived or they'd shopped themselves out, passengers merely used one of the three escalators to get to the third level, where they either bought a ticket, or—more commonly—simply swiped their commuter card—provided by the Blue Harbor Transit Authority for a modest monthly fee—through the turnstile.

One of these frequent passengers was Jordan Ellis. Having first settled down in The Pipe when she first arrived on Earth, Jordan had been one of the few residents who had managed to stay in her home once the city renovated the area in the 1980s.

Following the renovation, Jordan’s apartment building was now closer to the Station than it had been before, as several buildings which had blocked her path were simply no longer there. Now, it was simply a matter of exiting her building and walking about half a block, before she merged with the hundreds of people crowding into Whalen Plaza during the early morning commute.

Once she was inside the Plaza, it was then simply a matter of bypassing the overpriced coffee shops and kiosks selling things she had no need for and instead taking the escalator to the top level, swiping her committer card through the turnstile, and then settling down for a quiet fifteen minute ride to her stop two stations down the line. Once at her stop, she simply went back down to street level, walked to the bus stop one block from the station, swiped her card again once she got on the bus, and then sat down for a ten minute ride to the bus stop one block down from the hospital.

It would surprise many, she knew, to learn that Ultrawoman took the monorail or the bus to work, as she could fly or even run to work and back in under a few minutes.

It would also surprise many to learn that she even had a job. But it would definitely surprise people once they learned that she was usually, nine times out of ten, late.

“Excuse me! Sorry!”

Sprinting as fast as _humanly_ possible, Jordan jostled between other commuters, hurriedly swiping her commuter card through the turnstile before using a bit of Martian speed to _just_ manage to squeeze past the train doors before they closed.

Taking a breath, she leaned her head back against the closed doors and briefly mused about the fact at how she could outpace a bullet but she could still nearly miss her train every morning.

Taking a seat by the window, she opened her copy of the _Tribune_ and began reading, mentally scoffing at some of the insinuations about a few other aces out there made by a few people in D.C. By the first station, she’d finished the paper and began mentally scanning the various radio frequencies in the city, trying to find some music to listen to

“ _….all talk…_ ”

“ _…Harbor’s biggest rap and hip-hop…_ ”

“ _….the greatest music from the Swing Era_ ”

 _‘There we are’_ she thought as the sounds of Glenn Miller filled her head…

******

**Blue Harbor General Hospital**

“You’re late” Suzy commented in a singsong tone as Jordan stepped out of the elevator

“I know” Jordan echoed in the same tone as she absently adjusted her glasses as Suzy handed her a tablet PC

“The patient in Room 234 is complaining of chest pains again, but his EKG is stable,” she began as Jordan scrolled through the various patient charts on the tablet “the patient in Room 345 is still having trouble breathing, and there’s a video there I really think you should see”

Frowning, Jordan opened the video link, groaning at what she saw

“ _In our top story, Blue Harbor’s newest ace, Ricochet prevented two motorists from hitting a group of children at a crosswalk. However, as this cell phone video shows, she appears to inadvertently injure one of the two men during the confrontation_ ,” on the video, Jaime, clad in full armor, easily dodged a badly thrown punch from one of the two angry men, gripping his hand and twisting, the man letting out an pained yell before Jaime swiftly let go, clearly shocked at her actions “ _the condition of the two men is unknown at this time_ ” the reporter concluded

Jordan scowled as she closed the video

“Remind me to call her when I’m on break,” she declared as she pulled up a patient’s chart “in the meantime, let’s see what’s going on in Room 234…”

******

“Well,” Jordan took the stethoscope off and frowned “your heart still sounds fine, Mr. Metz,” she announced “I still think that what you’re having are panic attacks. Have you been under any stress lately?”

“Have I been under any stress lately?” the man mocked “gee, I don’t know, Doc, maybe being stuck here while one of the biggest business deals of my career closes? Then yeah, I’m under a lot of stress. Now you find out what’s wrong with me and you fucking fix it before I _sue_ your ass for malpractice!”

“All right, I’m done” Jordan declared, simply turning around and exiting the room, not bothering with the irate, self-absorbed man any longer. Walking up the nurse’s station, she made a notation in his chart and then moved on to the next patient, a young girl who’d eaten something she shouldn’t have. Unlike Mr. Metz, she was infinitely more cooperative and was ready to go home an hour later.

Finishing her rounds for the moment, she signaled to Suzy, silently asking if she wanted to get some lunch. Suzy signaled back yes, and they exited the hospital in short order, climbing into Suzy’s car and heading to a small Thai restaurant not far from the hospital.

“Can I ask you something?” Suzy hedged

“Sure” Jordan nodded

“Is this what you really look like?”

Jordan frowned, clearly puzzled

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I read that you’re a shapeshifter,” Suzy explained “so, I was wondering, is this what you really look like?”

Jordan looked down at herself, looking like she wasn’t sure if she should be offended or not

“More or less,” she shrugged “there are some minor differences in appearance. Why do you ask?”

Suzy blushed

“It’s just…we’ve been dating for what? Three months now? And, I don’t know much about you, the _real_ you,” she explained “I mean, we haven’t even kissed yet”

Jordan frowned and looked around, taking note of the fact that they booth they were sitting in was off in an unobtrusive corner. Wiping her hands, she scooted over to Suzy, gently taking her face in her hands, smiling softly as a strange ‘song’ suddenly filled Suzy’s mind

 _ **Know me**_ it sang as images of a city among red sands flowed past her mind eyes. _**Home**_ the song sang out longingly as people milled about the city. The scene changed to one of battle and Suzy could feel the rush, the thrill of victory as her fellows flew into battle, dropping down from ships high in the sky, easily pummeling the giant troll-like creatures on the ground.

The scene changed again, two men greeting her warmly, two young boys smiling up at her as a little girl toddled uncertainly towards her, stumbling before Suzy caught her.

But then…fire. Smoke. Strange ships filling the skies, their occupants landing, killing indiscriminately. The Warmaster was the first to fall, her successor falling in battle as well, the title passing to her soon after even as the Invaders began to construct camps, imprisoning dozens of Hasha’han, men, women, children. Branding them all with their mark.

But they were Hasha’han, they did not give up without a fight. They stormed the gates, forcing the Invaders to go on the defensive even as Armus burned all around them. The cities falling one by one, the weapon, the Scouring, being unleashed, her family urging her into the pod, urging her to escape, to live, her pod fleeing the shockwave with just seconds to spare, falling into the Well of Stars, sleeping a dreamless sleep, before the pod began moving, being pulled down towards a planet, towards the third planet in the system, the pod crashing in a heavy forest.

People, Humans, finding the crash site, a man, a woman, and their young daughter. The woman helping her out of the pod, checking her for injuries while the daughter and the man looked on uneasily as she explained who she was and where she came from…

Suzy blinked, coming back to reality. Jordan gave her a small, bittersweet smile

“That was how we kiss” she explained softly…


	9. Hacked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! Enjoy! :=)

******

**16th Precinct  
Blue Harbor Police Waterfront District**

Jaime looked up from the microscope as her cell phone chimed, a text from Jordan lighting up the screen

> I need to talk to you about what happened today. Meet me at the old Foundry District

It read. Sighing, Jaime put down the phone and activated her armor, unaware that the second the armor finished solidifying, the shard from Geoff Gray she’d been analyzing under the microscope suddenly flew off the microscope and latched onto the back of her suit, quickly ‘melting’ into the suit and interfacing with the circuitry within.

As Jaime took off from the 16th Precinct, the shard began its work, slowly but surely hacking into the suit’s operating system. The suit’s hardware was now made from Martian technology, but the software was the same as the original version that Geoff Gray had used as Captain Dynamic, meaning that if you knew how it worked, you could hack into it with ease…

******

Jaime grunted as the suit dropped suddenly, regaining altitude as she crossed over Harbor Square

“O…K,” she muttered “that’s not supposed to happen. Run diagnostic”

“ _Diagnostic complete_ ” a familiar voice suddenly said in place of the suit’s onboard computer system

“Geoff” Jaime breathed, a spike of genuine fear and terror going through her

“ _Hi, Jaime,_ ” Geoff chuckled “ _want to play a game?_ ” he chuckled as the suit suddenly rocketed forward “ _I know,_ ” Geoff continued as the suit took a sharp turn around a building “ _let’s play…kill the Martian_ ”

“You’re insane!” Jaime spat “how did you get these powers?” she demanded as the suit rocketed towards the Foundry District. Squinting, Jaime could just make out Jordan standing in an abandoned lot in her armor, cape rustling in the early morning breeze as Jaime unwillingly rocketed towards her…

******

Jordan looked up, frowning as she noted how fast Jaime was flying. Something was wrong, she realized, dodging as Jaime suddenly landed hard, gravel and sand flying up into the air

“Jordan! Get out of here!” Jaime gasped out even as she marched forward, swinging out a fist at Jordan “it’s Gray! He hacked my suit!” she exclaimed

“Well, that figures,” Jordan muttered as she casually blocked Jaime’s—or rather the suit’s—blows. Easily knocking Jaime flat on her back, Jordan flew up “come on, Gray! Follow the leader!” she called out as she took to the air, the suit quickly following her as the two zigzagged through the city center. Glancing back over her shoulder, Jordan increased her speed, putting some distance between them even as she sent an RF signal to the suit, pleased to find that the suit responded 

“ _Jordan! Thank god!_ ” Jaime sighed

“Are you all right?” Jordan asked

“Yeah, yeah, I’m OK,” Jaime panted out “I don’t know what happened!” she exclaimed, groaning as the suit made a sharp barrel roll

“I do,” Jordan answered “the shard, the one you were analyzing”

“Damn it!” Jaime cursed “the bastard used it to hack me!” she exclaimed, gasping as an alert appeared on the suit’s HUD “Jordan! Incoming!”

“Where?” Jordan demand

“ _ME!!_ ” Jaime yelled “roll! Roll!” she yelled as Jordan went into a barrel roll, a small metallic sphere flying past her nose to suddenly explode against a building, covering one window with a thick, sticky-looking fluid

“Let me guess,” Jordan drawled “another non-lethal weapon?”

“Goo-nade” Jaime answered

“Cute”

“The suit’s packed with non-lethal weapons,” she explained “so, Gray can’t harm you that way” even as she said this the suit suddenly rocked it forward, slamming a fist in between Jordan’s shoulder blades, sending her plummeting towards the ground.

Grunting, Jordan angled her body and pulled up, rocketing across the street, leaving behind a shockwave in her wake that flipped several parked cars like blocks. Grinning at the rush of adrenaline, Jordan climbed higher, quickly passing the cloud barrier in seconds

“Still with me, Jaime?” she laughed as Jaime and the out-of-control suit rapidly followed Jordan, dogging her all the way

“Still here!” Jaime called out “and stop laughing! This isn’t funny!” she snapped

“Oh, I don’t think it’s funny,” Jordan drawled “Tau” she called out through the frequency, keeping the channel to Jaime’s suit open so that Jaime could hear

“ _Yes, Warmaster?_ ” the Martian AI responded, the ‘voice’ coming through to Jordan’s EM sense rather than her ears

“Jaime’s suit’s been hacked, I need you to find a way to shut it down,” Jordan explained “Jaime? We need to get away from any people who could be hurt, so just follow me”

“ _Got it!_ ” Jaime panted out as they rocketed across the sky, rapidly heading west

“ _Warmaster?_ ” Tau signaled “ _I regret to inform you that it is impossible to remove the invasive intelligence without destroying Ms. Olsen’s combatskin_ ”

“Can you destroy the suit without harming Jaime?” Jordan asked

“ _Yes, but it will take approximately twenty point five seconds, possibly longer_ ”

“Start on it!”

“Wha, what about quarantining him?” Jaime stammered out “can you do that?”

“ _Negative,_ ” Tau reported “ _regrettably, the invasive intelligence has already implanted itself within the operating system’s root architecture_ “

“Great!” Jaime spat

“And what does that mean for those of us who don’t speak computer?” Jordan asked

“He’s infected the entire suit basically,” Jaime explained “there’s nothing left to quarantine”

“Tau?” Jordan implored

“ _Nineteen point five seconds_ ” Tau reported as another warning suddenly flashed across Jaime’s HUD

“Jordan! Another incoming!”

“Another goo-nade?” Jordan asked

“No, a sonic bomb!”

Jordan twisted around, gasping as a small, golf ball-sized sphere rocketed towards her, emitting a piercing, screech. Covering her ears, Jordan banked hard to the right

“Tau?!” she demanded

“ _Fifteen seconds_ ” the AI reported as the two flying aces left the shores of Washington State and were now rocketing across the Pacific Ocean

“Hurry!” Jordan grunted out as the sound stopped. Gasping she wobbled in the air, struggling to stay aloft as her head pounded, her ears ringing

“Jordan? What is it? What’s wrong?” Jaime asked as Jordan began to tumble through the air, looking like a bumblebee that had had one too many drinks almost

“ _Hasha’han achieve flight partly through a unique formation of the inner ear,_ ” Tau explained “ _high-frequency sounds can temporarily disrupt this structure, resulting in a temporary lose of balance and flight capability_ ”

“So, so, she can’t fly anymore?” Jaime asked

“ _Correct,_ ” Tau replied “ _I now have full access to your combatskin, beginning to disassemble its structure_ ”

“Wait! What about Jordan?!” Jaime demanded “what about me?!”

“ _The Warmaster is quite safe,_ ” Tau replied “ _as are you. Deep breath, Ms. Olsen_ ”

Jaime looked down, seeing nothing but the seemingly-endless expanse of the Pacific Ocean stretching out beneath her

“Deep—oh god!” sucking in a deep breath of air, Jaime sent a silent prayer to any god that happened to be listening as the suit began to dissolve around her, peeling away from her body in a swarm of tiny, shimmering scales, similar to Jordan’s own suit.

Gasping, arms pin-wheeling, Jaime fell, plunging out of the sky towards the water below

“ _ **I CAN’T SWIM!!!**_ ” she screamed just before she hit the water, plunging down, down into freezing cold darkness. There was a second, muffled splash as Jordan plunged into the water after her, awkwardly swimming towards her and pulling her to the surface

“Easy! Easy, you’re all right, you’re all right!” Jordan assured her as Jaime coughed and choked for air “just kick your legs, kick you legs”

Spluttering and coughing, Jaime clung tightly to Jordan’s shoulders

“I…am going….to _kill_ him!!!” she raged as she managed to stay afloat through sheer rage it seemed “I’m going to rip out his eyes through his nose! And then I’m going to stuff them up his ass and pull them out again through his dick!!!”

“Well, nice to see that you and Geoff can still speak fondly of each other,” Jordan smirked “come on,” she maneuvered Jaime around to her back, so that she was essentially giving the Human a piggyback ride “I think if I go slowly, I’ll be able to fly us back. So keep quiet and let me concentrate” she ordered as she awkwardly lifted out of the water, flying back to the shores of Washington State in a drunken, bumbling pattern…

******

**Apartment of Jordan Ellis**

Suzy Corrigan frowned as she unlocked the door to Jordan’s apartment, still puzzled about the news report she’d seen, showing Jordan and Jaime chasing after each other, and then she’d gotten a call from Jordan tell her to meet her at her apartment.

Shutting the door, Suzy looked around the empty apartment. Like Jill, Jordan lived in an old, art deco-style building in the historic Pipe area of the city (named as such because it used to be a major ‘pipeline’ for freshly cut trees being transported to the sawmills). The apartment was actually rather spacious, having a separate kitchen rather than a kitchenette, and even a guest room, with a large living room, that according to Jordan, the realtor who sold her the place nearly sixty years ago had boasted could house a baby grand piano.

Suzy wasn’t sure if that claim was true, but the place certainly looked big enough, it even had a balcony that looked out over Harbor Square, separated from the main room by a set of double doors. And it was on this balcony that Jordan and an unsuited Jaime suddenly landed on awkwardly.

Hurrying forward, Suzy opened the unlocked balcony doors, ushering them both inside

“What the hell is going on?” she demanded as she shut the doors “the news is saying that you were fighting all along Market Street and why are you both wet?”

“Had a bit of a run in with Geoff Gray,” Jaime sighed, running her hands through her wet hair with a grimace. She frowned and looked up at Jordan “can I borrow your shower?”

“Sure,” Jordan nodded “down the hall, it’s the door on the right,” she explained as Jaime hurried off in that direction “and try not to drip on the carpet!” Jordan called out after her “it’s a pain in the ass to clean!” she added as she ran a hand through her own wet hair

“Jordan?” Suzy prompted

“Geoff Gray hacked Jaime’s suit,” Jordan explained “she’s all right physically, but I had to destroy the suit in order to stop him. As for why we’re both wet, I led the suit over the ocean, to try and keep causalities to a minimum”

“And when you destroyed Jaime’s suit, you both…” Suzy trailed off and made a vague ‘falling’ gesture

“More or less,” Jordan shrugged as she unfastened the cape from her shoulders and draped it over a chair “want some coffee?” she asked as she headed into the kitchen, looking oddly naked without the cape

“Sure,” Suzy answered, absently noting how the water just ran off the scales of Jordan’s armor as she followed the Martian into the kitchen where Jordan set up the coffee maker “so…Gray really is back from the dead” Suzy mused as Jordan opened the fridge and pulled out a large platter of deli meats, which she began to eat 

“I don’t think he was ever ‘dead’ to begin with,” Jordan explained around a mouthful of salami and roast turkey “I think whoever helped him steal Jaime’s original suit and gave him the dark matter faked his death, and who are probably the same people who gave him his new powers”

“But who could do that?” Suzy wondered “and, you know…why?”

“Who is a mystery,” Jordan explained as she folded up the now-empty plastic platter and put it in the recycling bin “as for ‘why’, well that’s probably because they’re either anti-ace, anti-Ultrawoman, or both”

“Great,” Suzy sighed “so, what are you going to do about it?” she wondered

Jordan turned to her, a sudden, frightening darkness in her eyes

“I’m going to kill him” she said simply…

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought :=)


End file.
